


A Cruel Love

by WotanAnubis



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2018-02-20 00:36:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2408702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WotanAnubis/pseuds/WotanAnubis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Carmilla does not have a good night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Cruel Love

**Author's Note:**

> I kind of expect this fic to be outdated in a few days or so.

Carmilla walked across the ancient carpet and along the bare stone walls. Rows of dead aristocrats stared down at her from their high portraits. Candles did their feeble best to banish the choking darkness.

It was all wrong. For one thing, even a castle as old as this had to have electric lights by now, right?

Perhaps it did. There was certainly a light at the end of the corridor. Carmilla, for lack of any other direction, headed towards it. The light grew brighter, blindingly so, the air grew warmer and thick with noise.

Carmilla stepped out into a vast ballroom, illuminated by countless glittering chandeliers high above. An orchestra at the far end provided some pleasant music, but was largely drowned by a hundred slightly drunk voices making conversation. A score of servants moved quietly through the crowds, ensuring the slightly drunk voices became slightly drunker.

Several uniformed men stood along the walls. They all carried swords that didn't look nearly ornamental enough for Carmilla's liking. They weren't interested at all in the music or the drink or the company. Then again, Carmilla wasn't interested at all in the music or the drink or the company either, so at least they had that in common.

A smile flashed across Carmilla's when she spotted Laura somewhere on the other side of the cavernous room. She was surrounded by people much taller and larger than she was - which wasn't very difficult - but there was no mistaking the dress she wore. Carmilla'd recognize that dress anywhere.

Carmilla headed straight for her and had come quite some way when a man with a truly ridiculous mustache accosted her. Her first instinct was to punch him out of the way, but she was sure the men with swords wouldn't like that much.

"I don't believe we've met before," the man said in faultless German. "To whom do I owe the pleasure?"

Carmilla glared at him. The man was dressed in military chic, had a chest full of medals and looked like he had never, ever been in a real fight.

"Carmilla," she responded curtly, radiating her utter lack of interest with every syllable.

"And your family...?"

"Karnstein."

"Ah yes," said the man. "A very proud family."

"Well, we are noble."

"Yes," said the man, a little uncertainly, clearly trying to remember something, anything, else he'd heard about her family.

The mustachioed man must have been able to think of something because he started talking again. Carmilla didn't hear him. Didn't hear anything except Laura's bright laughter. She was also talking to someone else, some tall, stunning redhead. Carmilla's heart froze at the sight of the stranger. Especially because Laura seemed to be all smiles around her.

Carmilla grabbed some champagne off a passing servant and offered it to the man still blabbering on about her proud lineage in the hopes that he either couldn't handle his drink or had a tiny bladder. Instead he seemed to take it as a sign that this one-sided monologue was going splendidly and if anything started talking even louder.

"What?" said Carmilla, vaguely aware she'd actually been asked something.

"May I have this dance?" the man asked, bowing formally and offering her arm.

The orchestra had launched into a waltz that had been popular centuries ago and the various fops and debutantes gravitated towards the dance floor.

"Sure. Why not," said Carmilla when she noticed Laura and the redhead were among them.

The dance was an agony. Sure, Carmilla knew all the paces and, fortunately, so did the idiot she was dancing with. He even let her lead, more or less, allowing her to move closer and closer to Laura. Laura, who hadn't seen her. Laura, who didn't notice anything. Laura who simply looked at the redhead with stars in her eyes and a big, goofy grin on her dorky face. 

Carmilla wanted to scream. Didn't Laura see who she was dancing with? _What_ she was dancing with?

The tall redhead leaned down to whisper something into Laura's ear. Her giggle was a stab in the chest.

And then Laura and the stranger were gone, whirling away, the space they'd occupied soon filled by other couples. Carmilla shoved her dance partner away and started running in the direction Laura had disappeared in. She emerged from the sea of dancers, shoved her way through some hapless servants and ignored the guards as she bolted for the doors.

Carmilla was in darkness again, the waltz dying in the shadows. She kept on running, grateful for once in her existence that she no longer needed to breathe. Laura and the redhead didn't have much of a lead and they certainly weren't sprinting. It should be easy to catch up with them before anything happened.

But the corridors went on forever, constantly branching off into other endless hallways. There was no telling which turn Laura might have taken and Carmilla only had the dimmest of memories of this place. She knew the destination, but she couldn't quite recall how to get there.

Carmilla burst through a random door and found herself out on the battlements. The moon shone brightly, the stars twinkled merrily and a warm breeze rustled the foliage in the courtyard below. Carmilla despised the entire scene. A night as cruel as this had no right looking so romantic.

Laughter drifted up from below. Laura slowly wandered through the rose bushes, resting her head on the tall woman's shoulder. She probably did think tonight's full moon was actually romantic. Might even think it was a good sign or something. How could she be so ignorant?

Carmilla ran on back into the maze of corridors. Her heart felt like it was hammering in her chest. Which was ridiculous, of course. It hadn't beat for a very long time. It couldn't possibly hammer anything. And yet it wouldn't stop.

Carmilla saw light up ahead. It wasn't overwhelming like the ballroom had been. Instead it was soft and inviting, like the moon. She turned a corner, rushed through the open door and stopped dead in her tracks.

It was a study, of sorts. Maybe a small library. There was a couch against the wall. On the couch, two women. One staring unseeing at the ceiling, the other sucking noisily at her neck.

Carmilla wanted to scream, but no words came. She stumbled forwards, fell to her knees. The tall redhead looked up and smiled at her through the blood running down her chin.

Too late.

Too late.

But then, she'd known that, hadn't she? She'd always be too late. After all, that wasn't Laura dying on that couch, the last of her life dripping red on the floor, and never had been.

* * * * *

Carmilla awoke with a scream and for a while wasn't sure if it had been her scream or not. She heard the desperate, panicked panting coming from the other bed so she slipped out of her own and into the other. As she gathered Laura into her arms her fingertips accidentally brushed past two small puncture wounds that hadn't quite healed yet.

"Was that...?" Laura managed between shallow breaths.

"Yeah," Carmilla replied.

"How?"

"I'm in your blood now. I'm sorry. I didn't... Sorry."

"So is this going to happen a lot?" Laura asked.

"Probably not. I don't sleep much."

Laura took a deep, shuddering breath. "Stay with me?"

"Sure."

Carmilla could feel Laura relaxing in her arms. She probably ought to have felt good about that.

"Thanks."


End file.
